His Name Was Jake
by Starpatchy
Summary: After Buster discovers a few of his old music tapes, Elwood must explain to him who exactly Jake was. *Dad!Elwood* (Rated T for swearing)


**~Kachow~ I love dad Elwood and I miss Jake help**

* * *

It was on their getaway from the police after the Battle of The Bands when Buster found Elwood's collection of tapes. Sam and Dave, Elmore James, all his favorites. Buster was mostly uninterested in those. It was when he stumbled upon one simply labeled _Me and Jake_ that he became curious. He peeked his head up, looking over at Elwood in the driver's seat. The singer had noticed the kid rummaging through his things, but hadn't said anything, just kept one eye on him. He had seen Buster stop, and had a small inkling about what the kid had found.

"Who's Jake?" The kid asked bluntly.

Elwood was surprised at the pang of hurt he felt in his chest. The pang of familiar grief. He was still dealing with his brother's death, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to a kid about it.

"Put those away," he replied simply, ignoring Buster's question completely.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

It was silent for a few moments, then Buster sighed, and put the tapes back where he had found them. Elwood was just congratulating himself on avoiding the conversation when he heard the kid's voice again, perky and curious.

"Sooo...who's Jake then?"

Elwood bit his lower lip. "It doesn't matter."

"Is he your friend?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?"

"Not here."

"Where then?" Buster tilted his head to the side.

Elwood was starting to get impatient with the kid. He couldn't answer any more of these stupid questions. He thought he'd made it clear enough he didn't want to talk about it, but apparently Buster wasn't getting the hint.

"Drop it, please," the older man asked softly.

"Why?" Buster kept prying.

"Just drop it."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Please tell me?" The kid was begging, with full on puppy eyes now.

Although those eyes were cute, Elwood was not having it. "No."

And that damn kid kept going. "C'mon, Elwood. Please? Is it a secret? I won't tell nobody."

Elwood finally reached the end of his rope on the subject, turning to glare at the kid through his shades. "Buster, let it go, dammit," he snapped, raising his voice.

Buster, obviously surprised by his mentor's miniature outburst, sat back in his seat and became silent, staring out the window. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself.

Oh no. Now he'd scared the kid and upset him. Elwood frowned. It bothered him that he'd yelled in the first place. Curtis had never yelled at himself and Jake. No, not even when they were being at their very worst, which admittedly, could be pretty bad. He didn't raise his voice. Not once. Elwood had always told himself that if he was ever a father, he'd be like Curtis. Calm, collected, lovable. He wasn't doing a very good job at the moment.

Soft sniffling from the passenger's side of the car alerted the eldest that the kid was crying. And for whatever reason, it completely broke his heart.

"Buster…" he hesitated. "I'm sorry. It's not...it's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong." When Buster remained silent and turned away from him, Elwood sighed. "Buster, please talk to me. I'm sorry."

"Don't yell next time," Buster's small voice grumbled from his side of the car.

"I won't. I promise. It's just…" he swallowed hard. "That's kind of a sensitive subject for me, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" The kid was now perked back up, facing Elwood again.

"Not rea-" Elwood stopped himself, glancing over at the boy he'd grown so close to. He deserved to know about Jake. "Yeah, sure, let's talk about it."

He could see that Buster was pleased with this outcome. After a few moments of hesitation, the only remaining Blues Brother started to speak, his voice soft, dejected, reminiscing.

"Jake was my older brother. We grew up together at the orphanage. He was my best friend, always there for me. We got into the blues together, came up with our last name." The thought of himself and Jake as children, searching relentlessly for a shared name brought a sad smile to his face. "We started the band together. It was always our dream as kids. We hit it big too, goin' all over the place for gigs. We'd always have the big crowds, pack the whole place in. It was crazy," he laughed softly, shaking his head.

"What happened?" Buster asked, quiet and intent.

Elwood blinked once, the smile fading from his lips. "He got locked up. 3 years. And when he did finally get out, I managed to mess it up and get us both locked up again." Now came the more bitter part. The part he knew he'd have trouble with. He didn't look at Buster, only the road. "We were locked up together for a few years, recorded some albums. But he got out earlier than I did, since I was in more trouble. We wrote letters, the usual. And...one day they stopped comin'." He took a deep breath, holding back the tears that hadn't quite started yet. "He was...gone and no one bothered to tell me until the day he was supposed to pick me up after I got out of prison. My brother was dead and I didn't even know it until years later." He scoffed gently, shaking his head.

A silence fell over the two of them, not necessarily awkward, but not comfortable either. Elwood wiped at his eyes, feeling the hot sting of tears in them. The last thing he needed to do was cry in front of the kid that was apparently now his own.

"Do you miss him?" Buster asked softly.

"More than anything," he replied, pursing his lips.

This was all Buster needed, because he silently shifted so he was closer to Elwood, and reached out to pry his hand off of the steering wheel so he could hold it. The feel of the kid's-no, his _son's_ -warm hand clasped within his own was everything right now. He softly squeezed the much smaller hand.

There were no words. There didn't need to be. There was only the silence, and the grief of one who knew Jake well, and the other who didn't know him at all. This moment between father and son, one pining for his brother and the other for an uncle he never had, would not soon be forgotten by either.


End file.
